Friday, September 07, 2007

When All Else Fails...

There's half.com.

Ebay.

The pawn shop.

And a lot of icy margaritas (booze purchased long ago) to sip in the backyard to ease the sting.

One of the things that I know has to go on eBay is the Tiny Tears doll I've had since I was about five or six. She's still in very good condition and could probably fetch about a hundred bucks.

Still lots of cleaning out to do. I need to start taking pix.

There's the doll that my father gave me. (In fact, other than my DNA, the only thing he gave me.) Should go for a nice chunk of change.

I'll start taking pix of the funky old jewelry I never wear. I wonder if I could get more than five bucks a pop for the old turquoise rings? Is it even legal to sell ivory beads?

But this doesn't address the larger questions of

1) Why I seem to refuse to live within my means and
2) Why I am scrounging around to pay for stuff when I'm making more money than I've made in four years. I think it's because I really and truly am tapped out. As much as I would go into hysterics about bills, I still had money in savings. Now I don't, except for my sad widdle 401K.

Honestly? I need a job that pays me about $30K a year more to be comfortable and I haven't the slightest idea how I'm going to do that.

The property tax for Ma Maisonette is now over $5K.

The car insurance for The Bullet is $1400.

I have no idea where or how I can get a job that pays me $30K a year more than I'm making now. I am ashamed to say that $10K a year more would only be a stop gap measure.

I'm shaking my head. I have no idea what else to do. I truly don't.

The security system is going. The land line is going. What's to steal, anyway?

The exterminator service is going. I can buy a pail of bug killer and spray it wantonly all over the outside of my house, too.

The cats don't know it but they're going down from three 5 oz cans of food a day to two (plus crunchies - trust me, they won't starve).

But all of this is a drop in the bucket, dear friends. A drop in the bucket.

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